


Crying Skies.

by TaesKimono



Series: "IGANDTTNTBDADTTDNTBD" [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Microscopic Angst, Night Talks, Night walks, Wonwoo can't sleep when it rains, enjoy, i dunno, meanie in love, they kiss, three times?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaesKimono/pseuds/TaesKimono
Summary: Another one where Wonwoo can't sleep because...Read to find out why ;)(BTW, this is completely unrelated to the first story)





	Crying Skies.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of "I'm good at not doing things that need to be done and doing things that don't need to be done"
> 
> I think the theme is whenever I can't sleep Wonwoo suffers for it, I might switch it up next time and make Mingyu the one that can't sleep. ANywayS I hope you enjoy my word vomit, I didn't plagiarise a song this time. :D

  
Raindrops pelted down from above, the clear tear-shaped packets of water resilient, holding their shape despite the pull of gravity dragging them closer to dismantlement. The sheer force and their own destructive momentum leading them to slam harshly against the tarmac and burst into tiny mist like particles of the substance they once were.

Closer to his feet, he watched with a distant expression as they slid off the leather of his boots, the material looking shiny and smooth as opposed to the dry patchiness that it would’ve been otherwise. The rain drops trailed down, following the curvature of his shoe’s toe cap and dripping off the raised rubber soles to fill up the spaces between the cracked concrete in the pavement, eventually ending up in a drain somewhere.

 

Sleepless nights and rainy ones were essentially one and the same in _his_ world. If it rained he was _awake_ and if he was asleep it _didn’t_ rain, it was always one or the other.

That was the effect, as for the cause, he wasn’t too sure himself.

It wasn’t that he was scared of thunderstorms; the bright flashes of lighting and the rumbling crackles of thunder didn’t faze him. He hardly flinched nor blinked.

 

It wasn’t even the sound that caused his insomnia. Some found it beautiful while others thought it to be relaxing and peaceful but, in _his_ case, he didn’t feel very much at all.

To him it was nothing special, it sounded similar to the fountains from the malls he’d frequent as a high schooler or the water parks he’d be forced to visit with family as a child. It was mundane and easily replaceable, just an accessory to the main attraction, which was the water _itself_ , the tears of the sky as it wept. Humanity depended on it, water was life and without rain _neither_ would exist. So, when the sky cried, he felt like crying too, maybe in solidarity with the sky or happiness for new life.

 

Sometimes, if he closed his eyes he could even convince himself it was the sound of the sea, crashing waves and sparkling waters as the tide seesawed along the shoreline.

 

His dull lips pursed while his long pale fingers tapped away on the wood of the park bench, he took a deep inhale avoiding the rain drops gathering at the tip of his nose and dripping off when gravity deemed them heavy enough.

This night, similar to others like it, was a sleepless one. Years of experience taught him that trying to fall asleep on rainy nights was futile, he couldn’t _beat_ the rain so the next best thing he could do, was _join_ it.

He cast his gaze ahead, lingering eyes met with darkness wherever they looked, the blurred outlines of the surrounding trees merging with street lamps until they were almost indistinguishable. The tall metallic rods appeared to be swaying, while the bright light they emitted did little to clarify their shape, looking shattered and unevenly dispersed.

His poor vision was _barely_ sufficient enough to get him around safely in sunny weather, under clear bright skies, their limited power always tested by the elements and various other conditions, but nothing even _compared_ to how much they worsened during downpours. Only in times like this, when he struggled to see the rain falling before him, despite squinting and staring, did he realise just how useless his vision really was. But he had no one to blame for this, except maybe his own genes and God?

Caught up in his thoughts, he raised his head to the crying heavens, intensely squinting. Eyes almost squeezing shut to keep rain water out, but also because of the sheer effort he put in, attempting to see anything beside the unblemished blackness of the night sky.

 

“Thanks” he breathed. The word aimed at whoever was listening up there, but instead it was drowned out by the rain before it could reach higher than the trees.

 

Swallowed and unheard even by himself, rendered unspoken despite being voiced. The rain was too loud, deafening yet silent, the sound continuous and familiar, the patterns so repetitive, that at some point it began sounding like nothing at all. He allowed his useless eyes to slide shut, allowed the cool rain water to wash down his pale face, refused to stop facing it even as the raindrops punched his cheeks and crashed into his skin. Instead of avoiding it he sighed, somewhere between contentment and defeat, because the rain always won. Not because it _could_ , but because _he_ let it, not out of weakness but due to his own consent, his unwillingness to change the course of events, to influence the outcome.

Yet he was ultimately here out of choice, still smiling despite being soaked, sitting on an equally drenched bench in an empty park, all alone and almost blind, well into the early hours of twilight. And he remained in that same position, palms flat on the bench either side of his soaked jean-clad thighs, bracing his weight as his shoulders supported his craned neck, like a still image captured in time, motionless and unbothered.

It was his indifference and genuine disinterest in anything that could be of potential interest that meant he was capable of staying in that same position for hours on end, if he wanted. As though he were a plant rooted in position or a game character abandoned by its player for an unknown period of time, lost and confused by the notion of confusion itself, not knowing how to function without its controller. The only difference was that one could at least hope for the player to return and resume control, get the character to a safe shelter and preserve to guarantee their survival. While the other knew all too well that _hope_ was just as fickle and illusive as wishing on stars and blowing on dandelions.

Wonwoo thought he could relate, _both_ descriptions seeming to fit parts of him, past and present.

 

At some point sound faded into subconsciousness, pictures painted themselves on the black canvas of his inner lids, constellations of stars that would never be visible to him, stories of distant galaxies that were destined to be unreachable, at least for _this_ lifetime, certainly _never_ by him. His visualisations blurred as a thin barrier of liquid sheeted itself between his cornea and the inner eyelids. It was in _no_ way comparable to the external liquid he felt, still pelting down at him. The quantity _much_ too minuscule to be held in regard, the temperature _much_ too warm to be falling from the sky, the sting _much_ too painful to be ignored. Tight chest, choked throat, parched and raw, the tell-tale signs of imminent tears.

The heat of feelings welling and brewing, building up and boiling over, spilling past the boundaries of his control. Flooding the drain-less hollows and crevices of his comatose soul, drowning his unresponsive heart and clutching him by the scruff of the neck as he dangled precariously on the edge of a dark abyss.

 

Clenching his jaw, he bit harshly on his lip not caring if he drew blood, but just needing a distraction from the hot seemingly causeless tears that flowed like a fresh river, winding down his face similar to snakes through valleys of rain water. Expected, but _un_ wanted regardless.

 

 

 

 

Something shifted in the night air, and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs and feeling his heart slowly break down the surrounding confines. His wet hands tightened their grip on the edge of the bench, finger tips numb with a mix of cold and prolonged stillness. Tingling with the odd sensation of pins and needles as he finally moved them around, the feeling returning slowly.

As his mind cleared out, he realised some things. Such as the lack of fresh rainwater on his saturated hair strands, despite still clearly hearing them continue to fall hard on the ground. Then there was the strange disparity in temperature between his two hands, which in hindsight, he should’ve noticed sooner since it was _so_ unusual.

Now that he paid it some attention, one hand _definitely_ felt warmer than the other, not to mention heavier, like gravity was pulling it down _especially_ harder. He knew the feeling, since he wasn’t a stranger to nature’s unfair treatment between people.

 

He languidly opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of a see-through roof, clear, plastic-like and continuous, only occasionally interrupted by tiny purple polka dots. It was a sight he was used to seeing very often on rainy days, _almost_ as given as the tears and the sleeplessness, but somehow tonight, he felt like it came too _soon_.

The umbrella above his head shielded him from the elements while still allowing him to stare at the weeping skies. This explained why he suddenly stopped feeling the rain, he lowered his head, eyes following the metal rod of the umbrella down to the handle, where a hand gripped it securely.

Dropping his gaze further, he saw a hand identical to the above, dwarfing his own as it enveloped his smaller hand entirely. The pale skin of his fingers barely peeking through under the bigger slightly more tanned ones.

 

Sliding on the wet bench he moved to close the gap between their bodies, resting his head on his new companion’s shoulder. The hand on his own disappeared but before he even had the chance to feel disappointment at the missing warmth, it came around him from behind, and he found himself being embraced by a chest millions of times warmer than the hand. Strangely, he still wanted to hold it, but his current position surrounded by comfort and warmth was too good to move from.

 

His internal dilemma was intercepted by a sweet tone of voice, almost a whisper just above his head,

“What’s up cutie?” An automatic smile pulled at his lips, body doing and feeling things he _shouldn’t_ , considering he’d just been upset beyond the point of conciliation.

 

Yet he felt valuable and cared for, just from hearing his voice. The fact that he’d been crying only minutes ago was suddenly as good as erased because the good vibes were taking over, from the _in_ side. He couldn’t help the smile even if he wanted to wallow in sadness for a while longer, it was impossible now.

Refusing to remove his head from the warmest and most calming of resting places, he leaned back on his chest to look at him. Eyes roaming over his favourite face, smooth skinned, bright eyed, long eye-lashed, high cheek-boned, tall nose-bridged among other memorised features. His neck cramped from the awkward angle and he went back to snuggling comfortably.

“Tired.” He finally mumbled in answer, letting his arms loop around the other’s middle, he felt the hand on his shoulder move to his back, rubbing in calming circles and his eye lids fluttered shut.

“Of?” What was he tired of? The other’s vibrating chest and raspy voice were both welcome, but his questions were a tad irritating since he was feeling so _so_ tired and heavy, he didn’t want to talk right now.

Wonwoo took a deep breath and shaped his lips around his words with minimum effort, not even caring how it sounded or if he would be understood. “…Being tired.”

He felt the chuckle bubbling in the other’s chest before he even heard it, the happy sound had him grinning without the need for understanding.

“So, you’re tired of being tired?” The amused tone asked. He nodded, sighing, “isn’t everyone?”, he whispered more out of fatigue than despondency.

 

 

A spell of silence followed, the constant pit-a-patter of raindrops hitting the ground becoming fainter with every passing second. He focused on the circling motions on his back and how the actions instilled him with calm, then it paused. He frowned, moving back and cracking an eye open to inspect.

He found the other’s face much closer than he thought and his breath hitched at the handsome man looking into his eyes and smiling like he was all he saw, like he never wanted to _un_ see. He returned the smile, his vision restricting as he felt his eyes forming happy crescents.

“You wanna get deep, babe?” The other spoke, lips slightly chapped but just as plush and rosy as ever.

Wonwoo shook his head, tightening his arms around him as he leaned into him more, “I just wanna sleep, babe. Stop talking.” Their foreheads were only millimetres away from touching, when he suddenly had a change of mind.

Realising how much he loved hearing the other’s voice, he fixed his earlier sentence,

“Actually, _keep_ talking, but don’t say anything that requires any effort from me, Okay?” He leaned in until he made the briefest contact between their lips, featherlight and fleeting, just as his mood was, before his anchor came.

It all happened so quickly that the other didn’t realise what happened until after Wonwoo went back to snuggling his chest.

 

He heard the umbrella fall to the wet concrete, faint click of metal on concrete and the resulting splash from the waterproof top. He didn’t need eyes to know that’s what he’d heard, because the other confirmed it for him in the next second, when his entire body was squeezed by _two_ strong arms instead of one.

“Nonuuu, you _cutie_... I love you.”

He couldn’t breathe, a side effect of being crushed to his favourite chest rather than in reaction to the sweet confession. But at least his heart was shaking with glee, hooking his chin on a strong shoulder he filled his lungs with much needed oxygen.

“Gyu, I _can’t_ effort right now.” He whispered against the excited boy’s neck as a rouge raindrop landed on his hand, the last attempt by the rain to claim him back but he was more than content in these arms.

 

“I know how you feel, you don’t need to say it.” The words were whispered right by his ear, hot breath tickling his sensitive skin and sending electric currents flashing through his veins.

Wonwoo hummed, “You sure?” the other hummed back in affirmation.

“So why do you sound so... upset?” He pulled back at the last word, gently cupping the side of Mingyu’s face and reassuring him with his eyes.

 

Mingyu turned his face to kiss the palm, “I’m _not_ , I promise.” He mumbled softly then lowered his head bashfully, setting off fireworks in his stomach. He felt breathless, he had to say it.

“Mingyu?”

A hum to show he was listening and that’s all Wonwoo needed to say it, “I love you _so_ much.”

Mingyu lifted his head, cheeks blazing red and eyes wider than normal, his infectious uncontrollable grinning accompanied by incoherent noises that accurately conveyed his flustered feels. Wonwoo now had the younger’s head on his chest and he cuddled it with his long arms, fingers buried in the long brown strands to ruffle and play with the fluffy hair.

He kissed the crown of his head and the boy in his arms whinged and hugged him tighter.

“Cute.” He breathed after observing the younger silently for a while.

 

Then Wonwoo craned his neck up at the dark sky, black despite the efforts of stars to light it up, or were they lights? maybe flying fireballs? he wasn’t sure.

Either way, he was fascinated how the vast darkness swallowed all that light yet remained unfathomably formidable in its darkness.

He noticed how the rain had entirely stopped now, leaving the world below dripping in the aftermath, the cool air tinged with the scent of freshness.

Wonwoo focused his attention _down,_ on _his_ world, when he felt him moving away. He wanted to pull him back into orbit, in his embrace, where he _belonged_ and never let him get away.

In the end, he stepped back and complied, in the hope of having him return voluntarily.

Mingyu pulled at his soaked night shirt, lips pouting, tone concerned, “You’re so wet, you could catch a cold, Won.” Wonwoo bit his lip in shame while the younger continued to scold him, “Is it so hard to just grab a coat on your way out?”

Wonwoo shook his head, then he spoke honestly, “I’ll be okay. I just... I wanted to feel the rain.” He didn’t know whether that made sense, but it felt like the right thing to say. Mingyu’s pouty lips pursed further, eyes narrowing in what Wonwoo recognised as confusion, “Even if it hurts you?”

 

 _It’s not the rain that hurts me_ , he wanted to say; instead he stood up with a chuckle, grabbing the umbrella and shaking it, the water droplets sliding off the purple polka dots and falling to their new home below his feet.

Then he glanced back and said, “Lock the doors and hold me tight in sleep, that way I won’t be able to get away.” He didn’t know if he wanted the other to take him seriously or jokingly, but he wouldn’t be opposed to being held all night if it meant he’d be surrounded by _him_.

 

Wonwoo watched the boy on the bench, whom was staring up at him with amused eyes and a shining smile. His grey hoodie was covered in darker patches from where Wonwoo rested his head earlier and his house slippers were soaked through with water.

Wonwoo’s heart clenched imagining how the younger probably ran out searching for him without realising he was in slippers, it couldn’t be comfortable.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.” Mingyu voiced thoughtfully, dragging him out of his head and they continued to smile at each other. Wonwoo outstretched his arm for the other to take his hand, “Let’s go test it out then.”

 

Instead of fingers sliding between his own to lace their fingers as he _expected_ , he felt a hand wrapping itself securely around his wrist. When he glanced up, he found himself having to crane his neck up more than usual, because of how close the other was.

So, close their chests touched and Mingyu’s fringe tickled the exposed parts of Wonwoo’s forehead when the taller tilted his head and began leaning down to meet him. Wonwoo closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, heart hammering to the beat of Mingyu’s attentiveness.

 

Warm air caressed his face in misty strokes, blowing over his slightly parted lips. Cooling them down just before setting them on fire with expectation. But _expecting_ , didn’t necessarily mean readiness, as he discovered when his breath hitched, and his fists clenched Mingyu’s hoodie material, lips finally reuniting like they never wanted to part again.

 

He felt the warmth of a hand embracing the back of his neck, supporting his head and he sighed into the kiss, eliciting a chuckle from his taller boyfriend.

His eyes opened to the beautiful sight of him and his heart swelled with affection, seeing his own feelings mirrored in the other’s sparkly eyes.

Mingyu’s hand travelled down his arm, not breaking their transfixed eye contact, hand softly caressing as it slid past his elbow, to finally clasp their hands together, lacing all their fingers and tightly squeezing.

Wonwoo looked away from the other’s captivating eyes to their intertwined fingers and gave it a squeeze of his own. Mingyu’s other hand raised his face up by the chin and stole another short kiss from his lips.

And even as they stared in the other’s eyes, it was hard for Wonwoo to believe that Mingyu was _his_ to hold and kiss however he pleased, the reality still feeling too good to be true. Their linked arms swung between their bodies as they began slowly strolling back home.

 

Mingyu was special to him, several steps above everyone else. Everything from his soul, his body and even the sound of his laughter, he wondered if Mingyu felt how deep his feelings ran for him. He loved him more than any other, and more than love itself, somehow the word fell short of encompassing how wholesome and all-consuming he felt.

When Mingyu first confessed to him on a rainy night all those years ago, his face fell, it felt like the end of the world and he never remembered feeling as helpless and lost as he had in that moment. Little did he know it was only the prequel to a long and fulfilling story, because the darkness just before sunrise was the blackest and the lowest point in life eluded to an approaching ascent, things needed to get worse before they got better. And Wonwoo would encounter _so_ many better things with him by his side.

Even his occasional migraines followed that same modus operandi, the pain always intensifying to unbearable levels before disappearing altogether. The pattern of gradual descent was nothing, compared to the immediate relief when the hardships suddenly seized to be part of his reality.

Mingyu’s confession was his lowest point, the one that triggered his sudden rapid ascent. The boy himself became the one-stop solution to many of life’s lows and the reason for all its highs. That rainy night was a turning point in Wonwoo’s life, one that made him feel infinitely better and he could only hope he was the same for him.

 

The days and nights following that, identical flowers of affection simultaneously bloomed in both their hearts and despite having had their fair share of hardships and pain, they’ve been blossoming since.

Irrespective of season, free of any conditions and restrictions, they continued to grow closer, connected through mutual care. Mingyu was his personal tree of happiness, growing their exclusive brand of sweet fruit in abundance, all year round. They shared in each other’s happiness, strengths and feelings. The warmth of their eyes and laughter didn’t magically erase the hard times but they made them bearable, made life worth living.

Love made the heart feel at ease, the universal cure for unexplained frustration and stress, one look, word or hug and all the negative emotions were instantly traded for lighter ones.

 

As he blinked his misty eyes at their tightly held hands, he hoped that no matter how much they changed, grew into adulthood and dove into life with all its backbreaking responsibilities, that what they had would always remain the same. He hoped that no matter how many rainy nights flowed past and however much sleep he lost during those long nights, that he’d _always_ have him by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, leave me a kudo if you enjoyed. Comment something nice or not, it's up to you <3


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